


Unchained

by Townycod13



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, M/M, Second Person, butters has it hard ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 10:12:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13901838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Townycod13/pseuds/Townycod13
Summary: INSPIRED BY THE AWESOME ARTIST SYNTIC<3 THANKYOU FOR LETTING ME USE YOUR IDEA!!Sometimes the strain is a bit much. Sometimes little things snap away, piece by piece.





	Unchained

The song plays in the back of your mind. It’s part of what keeps you going.

 _Loo-loo-loo_.

Another blow. Another chain. Another restriction.

It’s important to remember, you’re sure, that life is a temporary thing. If happiness can’t be found here, where would you get it?

Nothing is free in life. It can always be worse. That’s why there’s always a bright side.

 _I’ve got some apples_.

Songs are uplifting and soft. Songs are cathartic and strong. You know. You _know_ if you just believe in yourself you’ll be able to get by. You can achieve amazing things, so long as you’re not grounded—

RESTRAINED

—so long as you’re able to get up in the morning.

Your only fear is losing emotion. You hate pain—RESTRICTION—sure, but you hate the idea of losing yourself more.

That alone can’t be taken away from you.

They can’t take that away from you _._

You won’t be ashamed of yourself.  Never. Never. Never.

But they push and push and push and _push_.

You can do this. You were always able to do this before. Why would you lose now? So senseless.

 _Loo-loo-loo_.

There’s no sense in fighting back. No sense. No sense. NO SENSE. It always circles back.

Kindness is hardship, you know this, but gosh darn you chose it. You chose hardship because you really believe—

YOU BELIEVED

—you’ll  be okay, partner. It’s okay.

_You’ve got some too._

\--

“Ugh, it’s Butters. What do you want Butters?”

You fiddle your hands, you know Eric doesn’t mean it, but he can be awfully straightforward sometimes. “Well, gee, fellas, I was wondering if you wanted to join me for a picnic—“

“ _Gay_ .” Eric interjected. You don’t let it get to you. You _don’t_.

“Stop being an asshole, Fatass.” Kyle was a good friend. Sometimes.

“—I made an awful lot of sweets when I was, uh, grounded last time and—“

Kyle cut in, it was supposed to be gentle, Butters knew, but Kyle had a special way about him. It was hard to be gentle about anything when he was so passionate about things, “I’m sorry, Butters. I’ve got pre-SAT’s coming up and my mom’s got me in this prep course. I don’t have any time.”

You turn your gaze hopefully towards Kenny. Kenny never turned down free food.

“Sorry, dude, I’ve got work.” Kenny muffled out through his jacket.

You don’t bother looking towards Eric; you can almost hear his voice before he starts.

“I’ve got way more important things to do than eat your gay pie. What if it’s contagious? I don’t wanna catch whatever makes you such a fucking faggot.”

Stan was silent during the exchange but you didn’t want to look at him. You do anyway. It’s only polite after all. You had to make it clear he was invited as well even though his answer was predetermined.

There was that look he had. The one you’d started to associate with how he looked at you. You didn’t look away. You _didn’t_. That didn’t make it hurt less.

Somewhere between exhaustion, exasperation, and the way he just looked _down_ on you. He didn’t want to have to deal with this. Gosh, what kind of terrible person were you? Making these nice fellas have to turn you down. It had to stress them out.

Stan had a lot on his plate, you know that he struggled a lot.

And that he didn’t like you.

“Look, Butters,” he was pinching the bridge of his nose, you hated giving him that expression. “Dude, you’ve gotta stop with this gay-ass kiddie shit. Cartman’s an asshole—“

“Hey!“

“—but he has a point. Who the hell goes on a picnic at our age? Much less bakes.”

“I bake!” Kenny defends. Stan rolls his eyes, it was similar to the way Kyle would normally do it, and they really were such awfully good friends, weren’t they? It’s good to have close friends.

“You bake for work dude, that’s different.”

Kenny shrugged, clearly not seeing the difference but conceding the point. Kenny didn’t argue much. He was the sort that let most shit roll off his shoulder.

Why couldn’t you be more like that? Why did things cut you so deeply?

You smiled. You could smile.

_Loo-loo-loo_

“Golly, fellas, I hadn’t really thought about that. Seemed like a nice way to pass the time is all. But I see what you mean, I really ought to think more before I act.”

“That’s not—ugh.” Stan was frustrated again.

Why did you always make him so frustrated? You didn’t want to do that. You didn’t want to do that at all.

You felt a bit watery around the edges but you’re a— a man, goshdarnit, and you weren’t about to cry over a picnic.

It was just spilt milk.

Milk. Last time you forgot the milk you got sent to your room. You got yelled at.

Did you forget the milk today? Gosh, you couldn’t really recall. You should double-check.

“It’s alright, I just remembered I have some errands to run this afternoon anyway. I’ll see you fellas tomorrow at school!”

You walked normally. You said goodbye normally. They responded normally. The apple pie in your backpack weighed you down, but you walked purposefully.

You’d go home and check on the groceries. It was your responsibility after all. You’re a principled person. You believe in holding yourself accountable.

Gosh, it was mighty awful of you to put them all on the spot like that. You should do something to apologize later.

\--

“BUTTERS!”

“Ah--!”

You jump nearly out of your skin. It doesn’t matter how old you get, you know what that voice means.

You know what that tone means.

Your heart thuds, you body palpitates, your mind races, and every muscle in your body begs, _begs_ you to run, just run, run, why won’t you ever _run_. It’s because you deserve this, isn’t it? You deserve what coming.

There’s your mother, hovering at the corner, distressed but ultimately uncaring.

You want to focus on her. She’s an easier sight after all. She’s like a mirror sometimes. It’s calming. the same shivers. The same terror. The same. The same. The same.

But she’s not the same. No she isn’t.

And you can't look up but you know you gotta. Your father doesn’t like it when you don’t make eye contact. You ought to make it easy on yourself. It’s pointless to act innocent. You’re guilty of something. You’re guilty. You’re guilty. You’re guilty.

You know he’ll say something soon.

“Butters, why are we out of milk?!”

But you bought milk. You know you bought milk. You know you were so careful. You were so careful.

“If you can't handle little responsibilities like this, how can I trust you?! How can you expect to handle the world?”

“I-, well gee, dad, I’m awfully sorry about the milk but—“

“What have I told you about excuses?”

He doesn't allow you to respond. You wanna quote his lecture word for word. Just wanna assure him you've been listening. You’ve been listening. You’re always listening.

It’s him who doesn’t listen.

That’s not fair though. Surely he listens. Why, that’s awful of you, making assumptions about him just like that. Gosh, you do deserve this punishment don't you?

And it will be a punishment.

“That does it! You are grounded!”

RESTRAINED

You nod helplessly and allow yourself to be dragged. What is it today? Bedroom or basement?

It doesn't matter. It never did.

You want—

FREEDOM

—to say something. To tell him he’s mistaken. That you’re sure if he checks the fridge, behind the orange juice, he’ll find the milk you bought.

You know he’ll find it later. He’ll ground you twofold for neglecting to tell him.

If you speak up now, he’ll ground you twofold for talking back.

There’s no winning. No winning. No winning.

You can do this.

You’ll _rot_. Rot. Rot. You’re going to rot away and decay.

You’ll be fine.

_Loo-loo-loo._

You have a song in your heart and you’ll make your way into—

CONTAINMENT

—your room and sit patiently on your bed. You’ll be good. Sure not to do anything you ought not to.

 _I’ve got some apples_.

Being kind is harder than being cruel. You chose to be kind. You chose kindness because it’s important. It’s…

It’s important.

_Loo-loo-loo_

Why is it important again?

_You’ve got some too._

\--

“Fellas, fellas—you won't believe what I just heard!”

You’re out of breath. You rush into the room expecting four but all you see is one.

Your breath catches.

Sometimes this happens to you. When you’re unprepared. You wonder what it is you were going to say. What was the news that was so important that you just had to tell the guys?

He hasn’t looked at you yet. He’s having one of his quiet moments. You notice those. He has them more and more as he gets older. He doesn’t want to hate the world, you know he doesn’t, and he tries so hard not to.

You really respect that about him. That even when it gets hard and he breaks inside, he’ll bounce back. He has so many problems and challenges. You notice them. They wear him down.

Sometimes he’ll get awfully silly and do something foolish or selfish but he always comes back to himself in the end.

You want that strength of self.

You want—

—his eyes are on you and he’s got that troubled expression again. Oh gosh, he’s gonna be mad, ain’t he? You just come rushing here hollering about something or another and you go and forget what you were saying in order to stare at him.

You were staring. That’s bad. Mr. Mackey talked to you about it. Staring is bad.

“What is it, Butters?”

He has some patience for you but you know it’ll drain away when he learns how scattered your mind is. He'll be mad. He’ll be mad,.

You need to calm down. You smile shakily, “Oh geez, I’m real sorry, Stan, I went and forgot what I was gonna say.”

To your complete surprise he laughs. It’s an open sound. You haven’t heard it in awhile. He’s been awful private lately.

“You were so excited,“ he snorted, “and you forgot?”

It didn’t sound like he was laughing at you, not really, so you giggled a bit too. This was okay.

His eyes were some sight when he was laughing. You wondered if other people see this often. You wanted to see this often.

He had put so much space between you that you couldn’t reach him.

Why did he hate you so much?

Well, of course he hates you, you’re an awful child and he probably knows how you’ve been looking at him. He’d have to be blind not to notice.

You gulp. You didn’t think anyone noticed.

The laughter dies away from him when your own departs the world. He’s looking at you and it doesn’t have his normal exasperation.

His eyes are so open. What a pretty blue. You’d always been fond of the color but there was something special about the hue in his eyes, the way the light reflected off them, the way they gazed straight into your own with so much—

The door opens and his eyes close.

_Loo-loo-loo._

\--

It’s never any particular thing.

Or maybe it’s everything.

Maybe it’s all nothing.

You don’t care all that much.

Well, sure, you care. After all, caring is a part of who you are. A part of who you choose to be.

You care.

That won’t stop you though. It’s much more interesting to see where the song takes you.

Your parents are out of town.

They don’t know it’s you that sent them off. They still don’t understand the internet as well as they could. They underestimate you. Everyone underestimates you. It was worth it. Send them away for a bit.

You considered sending them off for good. Maybe on a car trip into a lake.

You know your mom liked those.

She’d missed the last one. That wasn’t fair at all. Such a shame she’d missed out.

Next time. Maybe. For now you had time. You know what you can do with time.

You can plan. You’re mighty capable when you put your mind to things.

You know what will happen when they come back.

They’ll try—

IMPRISONMENT

—to stop you.

You won’t stop.

_Loo-loo-loo_

You have a skip in your step after all.

_I’ve got some apples_

You have a song in your heart after all.

_Loo-loo-loo_

You can’t be stopped.

_You’ve got some too._

You can do what whatever you’d like.

_Loo-loo-loo_

You can _have_ whatever you want.

_Let’s get together._

Whoever you’d like.

 _I know what we can do-loo-loo_.

Those blues look so confused. “Butters? What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t know that you know about how he likes to sit by the pond and think.

That’s terribly shortsighted of him now, ain’t it? He could have at least made it hard.

_Loo-loo-loo_

He looks somewhere between his usual disdain and puzzlement. You think it’s a good look on him.

_Let’s make some applesauce_

He doesn’t expect the stun gun. He wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t. What was it he called you before? A Melvin? You remember. You remember exactly what he called you and why. He doesn’t think much of you at all, does he? You know, you know, you _know_.

He doesn’t care.

But that’s okay. You do. You care a lot.

His beautiful blues are wide with shock as his body collapses beneath him.

You know exactly where you’ll put him. You’ve got it all set up.

 _Take off our clothes and loo-loo-loo_.

Let the fun begin.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is all inspired by this (http://art-of-syntic.tumblr.com/post/171479863760/ive-been-having-thoughts-of-butters-just-cracking) lovely piece of art!!!  
> After writing this I srsly need to write some stutters fluff tho XD my babies deserve to be happy ok.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~( >x> a part of me is wondering if I should continue this tho)~~


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